


From the Root

by RosesToPaint



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Adventure, But only a little, Crossover, Friendship, Horror, Humor, Maybe Romance Later On, other characters will be added, worlds will be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:50:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesToPaint/pseuds/RosesToPaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio is home at last - but things feel wrong somehow. The world is slowly dying, so what is the King waiting for? Or: How Sora, Riku, and Kairi finally took things into their own hands and everything actually turned out better than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Root

The ticking of the big grandfather clock set his teeth on edge. It had been a wedding present, a much loved one, as the sound usually relaxed him and eased the buzz of his thoughts. But right now the ticking only urged him to make haste, to leave his home and his friends once more.

**Tick..tock….tick..tock**

  
The sound seemed unbearably loud. As did the sound of his own nervous breathing, the shuffle of papers that he stuffed into his bag, the letters smacking onto the floor. He did not dare wake Minnie. She would surely try to make him stay.  
_You did enough. Let someone else take care of this_.  
There was nobody else. Even if there were, there was no time. He closed his bag, fetched his cloak from the very back of his old oak closet, flinching as the doors creaked, and ran.  
It was long past midnight, and nobody witnessed the King flee from his own castle.

As he opened the dark corridor that would take him where he needed to be, he sent a silent apology to his loved ones.  
_I’m sorry Minnie. It will be a while before we meet again. I trust everyone will be safe under your watchful eye. Donald, Goofy I will have to rely on you once more._

_I’m sorry Sora. This is as long as I could give you._

The letters would reach their destinations. He had to believe that.

 

It was the first time in her 50 years of attendance that the red banner was raised above an almost empty hall. Groups of attendants were scattered across the half circle of lushly upholstered chairs, whispering and hissing at the scene unfolding at the lectern. Two… _creatures_ were struggling to hoist the flag, getting tangled in the rope and finally deciding half-mast would have to suffice.  
She fanned herself with the letter plucked from the inside of her robes, trying to cool her anger. Hoisting the flag was supposed to be an honor. One she herself had been waiting for at least for half of those 50 years of attendance. She wondered if this was the old bat’s way of spitting on them, even though they so graciously decided to come at all, or if she was just that ignorant. After all, despite her bravado and her magical ability, Maleficient was only a fairy.  
If any other outsider had decided to call a symposium, the council would surely have ripped them to shreds. As it were, only a fifth of them had bothered to turn up, sitting left from the lectern and looking decidedly put out.  
She herself recognized only one other attendant, an elderly lady in a dark green robe, small red roses woven into her long white braid. Agnes, eligible for a seat in the council next year.  
The rest were all rather young, most of them younger than her at least, and obviously only here because they thought this to be official business. Inexperienced.  
A tall, thin woman in the council’s customary red robe stood up and silenced the whispers with a clap of her hands.  
“To order, ladies! Welcome to the 5060th Symposium of Witches.”

 

“Your Highness, urgent mail for you!”  
The soldier nearly fell over his own feet, as he burst through the door without knocking. “Your Highness, my apologies! This came not five minutes ago!”  
He kneeled to the ground and raised a letter over his head. It was slightly battered and made from strange parchment, but the seal was one she easily recognized.  
“Thank you”, she hummed. “Please call for the captain, we will have to discuss the guards assigned to the town gates. I will be with you shortly.”  
“Yes, Princess Zelda!”  
“And, Sergeant?”  
“Yes, milady?”  
“A letter will have to be delivered to Ordon.” Oh dear, she had hoped to never encounter this seal. The princess opened the strange mail with a practiced flick of the letter opener. Her eyes hurried over the short paragraph, penned down neatly but obviously in a hurry. What a mess. What a terrible, big mess.

 

“Hokage-sama!” ANBU guards and a hand full of Chunin burst into the Hokage’s office but the Godaime paid them no mind. “Hokage-sama, we felt a surge of chakra…?”  
“Hmhm…yes, I’d imagine so.”  
A letter sat innocently on her desk. A letter that hadn’t been there just a minute before. One that definitely did not pass through security. She waved away the office Chunins, before leaning back in her chair to ponder the red wax seal of the envelope.  
One of the ANBU operatives choked, as the Hokage unabashedly shoved a hand into her cleavage and procured a small seal hanging from a delicate looking silver chain. It opened one of the desk drawers, uncharacteristically empty, except for a small scroll. She unrolled it, trying to match the seal to one of the pictures it contained. Whatever she found, it displeased her.  
“Scram. This looks like important business.”  
ANBU Tora and Okami looked at each other. “Go, go! The letter’s not gonna kill me and you brats don’t have the clearance for this.”  
She poured herself a cup of sake and downed it with a single swig. “Hell, I don’t have the clearance for this.”

 

The fireplace came alive with a muted roar, drowning out the chink chink of a pot of tea making itself.  
“So this is…real?”  
“Quite so, Minerva. I am still undecided whether this is a blessing in disguise or yet another point in Tom’s favor.” Albus Dumbledore regarded the letter with a pensive frown. “I would love to believe that my old friend has come to support us out of the goodness of his heart. But I fear it is not so. Perhaps it is time to call in some favors.”  
“Favors, Albus! One would think we have used up all of our favors!”  
Professor McGonagall fanned herself with her hand, before conveniently remembering that she was a witch, and turning her tea cup into a beautifully patterned hand fan.  
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, my dear, it’s that there are always more favors to be called in. If one is quite prepared to pay the price. I believe the Order has to be informed at once. It is unfortunate that our attention will have to be spread so thin, but there’s nothing to be done I’m afraid.”

 

  
And so the King’s letters found their intended recipients. Or at least, most of them. On a beach, far, far away, a soggy piece of paper washed ashore. The saltwater had corroded the wax seal and the ink had been smeared and carried away by the tide. A curious seagull picked at it until it came apart, and that was that.

 

 

 

One, two, three, four, five…wait a moment; hadn’t it been more than that?


End file.
